


We Bully Roy For Ten Consecutive Chapters

by SalamanderScrambles



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Background Relationships, Blind Roy Mustang, Canon-Typical Violence, Crack Treated Seriously, First work - Freeform, I'm a lazy hack, It's background but there, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Theyll get here eventually, Trans Roy Mustang, Unreliable Narrator, and I dont want to name them all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2020-10-18 21:44:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20646146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SalamanderScrambles/pseuds/SalamanderScrambles
Summary: He did nothing wrong, we're just mean.The Promised Day was going well, up until the One The Homunculi Call Father made the choice to drag his sacrifices down with him. Scattered across an unfamiliar world and still nursing their injuries, the five attempt to find each other again. But the longer they stay the more entrenched they become in this world's problems.Oh, and what the hell are 'quirks?'





	1. Local Underground Hero Beats Up A Blind Man

**Author's Note:**

> Roy comes out of the closet, nearly dies, and regrets every decision he's made up until this point.

Time went fluid. Its tides rushing and foaming around Roy like those of a great river. The Truth’s mocking laughter echoed in his ears, bodies brushing against his before they were swept away in the torrent, jolting the sparking aches and pains spattered over his own battered flesh. They ran past him before he could get a grip on their meaning, mind fuzzy and a scream building in his throat. Distantly, he thought he might have heard the Lieutenant call his name.

And then it was over. The jarring stop causing him to trip over his own feet, smacking the back of his head off something hard. The firework of distracting pain resulting in a locked back grunt, before he stumbled and fell roughly on his ass. A shower of things falling over and around him.

He let out a low groan, eyes squinted open only to find uninterrupted darkness in all directions. Right, blinded.

Teeth grit, he shifted himself up on his elbow, carefully keeping his skewered hands from taking his weight. As his feet got under him, he turned up to blink blankly at his surroundings. He could feel his breath bouncing off the wall to hit his face, the sharp tang of chemicals assaulting his nose, and any small movement found the unforgiving edges of shelving digging into his sides and arms. Some kind of supply closet, then?

Slowly he reached out a hand, fingers brushing against a smooth shape that had to be a handle of some kind. Attempting to wrap his hand around it only resulted in his fingers twitching weakly. Frowning, Roy tried to curl his hand into a loose fist. His outermost fingers bent easily, but his middle and ring finger just jerked in place.

Testing his other hand found the same problem, numbness spreading steadily over top of his hands and curling over his central fingers. Cold horror struck him at the thought his nerves had been cut.

Swallowing dryly, he took hold of the door knob between thumb and forefinger, stepping out of the impromptu prison.

The space outside was much roomier, and Roy slowly made his way along the wall to his left. Shoulder brushing the wall softly on every step. 

Then Roy’s foot fell through empty air, and a second later he was rolling down a set of stairs. A high pitched shriek sounding his distress before the disorienting feeling stopped. Mustang held midair in what felt like a series of flat, metallic ropes.

Wriggling in place, he barely had time to reestablish which way was up before he was jerked back again, hovering just above the floor in front of his assailant.

“Who are you?” A gruff voice demanded in what was definitely not one of Roy’s languages. Frankly, he didn’t know what it was or how he understood it. Attempting to remember only bringing the memory of white and cold horror as a stone gate slowly creaked open. That _ thing _ laughing in mocking amusement as doors fell open with the entire universe behind them-

Mustang felt the binds tighten in warning. A thin breath fleeing his lips, the grip far too similar to the tentacle like monstrosities that had been one of the last things he saw before they reached for his eyes and  _ took _ . 

“Answer m-”

The man was cut off as Mustang surged forward, head connecting with his nose. The sickening crack of shattered cartilage sounding loud in his ears as hot blood sprayed over his forehead, dripping into blind eyes. The ropes growing loose in shock.

Committing to the rather slapdash plan, Roy kicked both legs out and into the attacker's gut, slamming his palms together. Numb fingers meeting in an inelegant tangle before he swiped his thumb along the side of his index. The spark of fire running down its path with all the vengeful fury of a cornered animal. Expanding and burning red hot where Mustang hoped the man was.

Instead, it hit just behind him, and Roy cursed as his attacker lurched forward in surprise. Knocking into him and causing him to stumble back, eyes widening in sudden remembrance and horror as his feet slipped off the edge of a stair. Taking the twisting binds with him as he fell back in what felt like slow motion. Down to the unforgiving concrete below.

All went quiet.

* * *

Roy awoke to a rock hard mattress and a nasty taste in his mouth. His body ached with a hodgepodge of small, miscellaneous cuts and bruises, drawing a low groan from his lungs.

A set of steps sounded next to him, and Roy opened his eyes at a squint. Only to see unending darkness in every direction. His building distress sounding in a soft keen.

“‘awkeye?” He muttered, mind swimming in groggy confusion, “ **‘s that you?** ”

“Afraid not, Sonny,” an unfamiliar voice responded in that strange language, “my name is  Shūzenji. Or Recovery Girl, if you’d like.”

“Mn,” Roy grunted without commitment. He reached a hand up to rub at his face only for restraints to tug firmly on his wrists.

“It’s just a safety measure,” Shūzenji assured him, papers rustling, “you did quite a number on my colleague with that quirk of yours.”

_ Quirk? _ Did she mean his alchemy?

Mustang wasn’t quite sure, but before he could figure it out the woman across from him bulldozed on, a new disapproval in her voice, “but not nearly as much damage as you did on yourself!  _ What on Earth _ were you doing?”

_ Earth? _ Mustang furrowed his brow, but dismissed the odd saying. Hauling himself into a sitting position, he paused to think for a minute before coming up with the right words in the new language.

Debating for a minute whether or not to use an alias, he eventually decided there wasn’t any point. Even if he wasn’t in uniform, that stunt on the stairwell would have already outed him as the Flame anyway.

“Roy Mustang,” he finally groused, a thick Amestrian accent coating his words, “where am I?”

Before she could answer, a loud slam echoed through the room. The click of dress shoes a sharp contrast to the thick combat boots and mismatched steps Roy associated with the action.

Years of Edward Elric pulling a similar act, as well as the firm leather binds, prevented Roy from toppling out of bed at the sound. As it was, he merely leaped in place, eyes widening pointlessly as a pair of shoes clicked neatly on the tiled flooring. A small weight plopping down at the foot of his bed.

“Yuuei High School!” The brand new, obnoxious man proclaimed as the door to the room swung back shut, “And I’m the principal!”

“My name is Nezu,” the voice chirped again, origin oddly low, "It's a pleasure to meet you,  _ Colonel Mustang _ ."

Roy tensed, offering a cautious nod, growing increasingly wary by the second. He could hardly question the sharp edge Nezu held when speaking his title, but  _ why the hell was he in a high school? _

Nodding politely to the greeting, he decided to risk it, “why am I here, exactly?”

“You took quite the tumble,” Shūzenji said next to him, ignoring the question. “I was able to patch your skull up from where you cracked it, but you’ll need to stay longer for your hands. You’ll need surgery to fix the nerves.”

His gaze widened slightly under his practiced mask, the numbness painting his centermost fingers all the more apparent. He steadied himself, and resisted the urge to cradle them protectively to his chest. Returning instead to his neglected query. 

“Okay, but the question remains, why am I  _ here _ , exactly?” He stressed. He didn’t trust these people at all, his head wasn’t even in pain. In fact it felt like the only damn spot that  _ wasn’t _ hurt, and he knew for a fact if his skull was cracked he’d feel it.

Evidently taking pity, Nezu finally explained, “Yuuei’s a school for heroes, our medical wing is on par with any hospital. Recovery Girl’s quirk will have you on your feet in days!”

Or not. That was just beyond confusing. Even ignoring their strange use of the word quirk.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed with exhaustion, “a school for heroes? That’s not a profession.”

Shūzenji made a sound of incredulity, but Nezu just laughed joyfully.

“Sure it is!” He said loudly, “heroes are people who use their quirks to fight villains and rescue civilians! And Yuuei is the top hero school in the country.”

“Military,” Roy muttered, confused and fed up, “you’re describing the  _ military _ . And what the hell is a ‘quirk,’ anyway?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Shūzenji said, “you created fire out of thin air, and you’re telling us you don’t know what a quirk is?”

“That is exactly what I’m telling you,” he shot back, irritation flooding him, “I wouldn’t ask a question I already knew the answer to.”

“Quirks are superhuman abilities possessed by about 80% of the population.” Nezu replied, and Roy grew wary at the building excitement in his tone.

“Bullshit.” Said Roy on impulse, the scientist in him flaring, “humans don’t have super powers.”

“So if that trick of your on the stairs wasn’t a quirk, then what was it?”

“Alchemy,” he snapped, indigent that his boyhood passion was now apparently _ goddamn magic _ . “I’m from Amestris.”

The mattress creaked a little as the man across from him leaned forward, his voice gleeful, “and where’s Amestris?”

Roy paused in momentary surprise, “...West of the Great Desert. Where am I now?”

Amestris was one of the largest powers in the world, if even just for its alchemical prowess, and is well known for its warmongering nature. Even for countries on the other side of Treha, it was at least heard of.

“Musufatu, Japan,” Nezu said brightly, “on planet Earth!”

And so Roy blinked once, leaned back into his pillows, and swore in as many languages as he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nezu's just here to bully Roy with us


	2. Roy's a patient from hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> doctors hate him

They set the surgery for the next day, before the atrophy could set in.

Waking up after the fact had found both Roy’s hands in splints, the fingers immobilized and numbed with morphine. 

(Mind fuzzy with the drug, Roy had called for Riza, and cried when she didn’t come. Shūzenji hadn’t commented, thankfully.)

After another couple days Roy had been mostly weaned off the medication, and Shūzenji promptly layed out just what his physical and occupational therapy would look like and how long it’d take.

Roy decided to do it quicker. Listening to Shūzenji’s plan would take _ months _.

Shūzenji had neglected to mention, however, was just how much his hands really didn’t want to participate in the whole ‘get better’ thing. From nearly day one they’d began to spark and twist in dull, persistent aches. The pain a rather unwelcome throwback to his top surgery as well as later, when he’d cauterized his lower left side.

And much like those times, Roy found himself bristling at the restrictions on his movements and the demands for rest. Unlike those times, there was no vicious satisfaction at having at least accomplished something, a fact which only made him all the more determined to push his limits until he came out the other end back in full health. Much to Shūzenji’s chagrin.

He hated the very thought of being idle for ‘two to three months.’ Roy’d been at this for a week already, and all he could think of was Amestris and if the team- the _ country _\- was okay without him. Whether or not he was the only person who crossed the dimensional boundary.

(Some part of him wanted to study and dissect that passing. At the same time he shuddered in horror to imagine Truth’s wrath if he were to attempt an experiment on the _ very fabric of spacetime. _ It was probably best to let some things lie.)

Unfortunately, his efforts did little more than enrage Shūzenji, who had by now whacked him on the head so many times it was a wonder he could still think straight. He almost wanted to lend sympathy to Fullmetal, at least Shūzenji had never used a _ wrench _.

“Recovery takes _ time _ ,” she had stressed, finding Roy attempting to wrangle his fingers into a snap position yet again, “you need to be _ patient. _”

Which was complete and utter bullshit, by the way. He’d been doing this for a week and all it had done was show him how much he hated all these stupid stretches and the stupid casts and the stupid fucking-

“** _Fuck!_ **”

The pilfered therapy ball slipped from his semi-impeded grip and hit the floor, interrupting his thought process as it rolled away to God knows where. Blind as a bat and alone in some empty classroom, Roy crouched to find the object, regretting it as he knocked his head against the table, a shot of pain reverberated through his skull.

Sitting back on his heels with a hiss, Roy absentmindedly rubbed the offending area with the back of the splint. Swearing under his breath and debating the consequences of just torching the damn place and leaving. 

He’d been afforded only one of his gloves back, though with strict instructions not to wear them, after taking them had driven him into paranoia. Eventually, he decided that losing it again combined with the concussion Shūzenji would give him just slightly outweighed the satisfaction. Reaching out, he intended to stand back up and abandon the stupid thing.

Only for it to promptly get caught under his palm and send him crashing face first into the floor with a white-hot pain arching up his arm. His grunt of alarm lost in the bang.

“**Your mother was a ** ** _whore._ **” Roy hissed in the presumed direction of the cursed ball, nose stinging.

He might have continued to hurtle abuse at both the object and its parentage, had that not been the exact moment the door clicked open.

“Hey Mu-” A pause, “what are you doing?”

“Oh you know,” Roy intoned, “just enjoying the view.”

An unamused snort sounded from the man behind him, one Aizawa Shōta, and he found himself being dragged to his feet haphazardly. The ball placed squarely in his hand, “braille.” 

Roy stared sightlessly at the ball in his hand, then in the last direction of Aizawa’s voice, “no, I believe that’s a ball. And I’m blind. No excuse, really.”

Another puff of air that Roy had learned was the closest he’d get to amusing the man, assumedly accompanied by rolled eyes, if he were to hazard a guess. “Nezu’s teaching you braille, idiot. You need me to help you?”

Roy frowned, but aquiested. Stuffing the ball in his pocket and placing his hand carefully over the man’s shoulder then trailing down to grip his bicep. 

That was another thing. Despite having both tried very hard to knock the other out, Nezu had decided that _ Aizawa _ of all people would be the best choice to chaperone Mustang during his recovery. An idea that had all the tactical soundness of Fullmetal at a Father’s Day celebration and had somehow worked out fine regardless.

(Though the man’s husband poisoning his coffee hasn’t quite been ruled out yet. Not that Roy held it against him, attempting to kill someone’s spouse just did that, it seemed.)

“Are you even supposed to have that?” Aizawa asked as flatly as ever.

Roy smiled, facing what he prayed was his face and was probably the wall behind him or something, “yes.”

“And if I asked Recovery Girl would she agree?”

Roy’s smile dropped into a pout as he forked it over, slouching moodily. Aizawa wordlessly took it, and Mustang resigned himself to stealing it back.

“Recovery Girl’s locking them up,” Aizawa stated absently.

“_ Damn it-! _”

Roy could have sworn he heard a snicker, but before he could confirm the noise he felt Aizawa shift under his hand. A door swinging open in front of him. Letting out a sigh through his nose, he allowed himself to be led over to a chair. Fucking _ Nezu _.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t_ like _the man, it’s just he seemed to love asking him question upon question about Amestris and Treha as a whole. Badgering him from everything to his gloves to his badges to his damn childhood.

It was exhausting. And faintly unsettling.

“Colonel! Welcome!” Nezu chirped, and Roy heard a slight impact hit the table.

Steeling himself, cautious fingers reached out to brush against the object, finding a simple plastic contraption with two long sides connected by a hinge. Rectangular openings sat in neat bunches rows over one door in a four by twenty-eight grid, small notches on either of the long sides within them. A few inches ahead of the grid thingy was another small instrument with a flared handle on top and a dull needle at the bottom.

Roy looked up once he had finished probing the objects, Nezu gleefully beginning his instruction. Remaining at least cautiously optimistic before the sadist before him joyfully proclaimed that he’d most likely not be able to use the stylus for a while yet, thanks to the nerve damage.

He was in for a _ long _ day.

  
  


* * *

  


Shōta had mixed feelings about Colonel Mustang. On one hand he was almost entirely sure Nezu was keeping him around because he found him fascinating, and he wouldn’t wish that fate on his worst enemy. On the other hand, he had to get his suit replaced thanks to him and Recovery Girl needed to heal up his broken nose.

(Hizashi had demanded he kiss it better as well. Sap.)

Mostly though, he was just annoyed _ he _ had to babysit him. Nezu had claimed it was because Aizawa expelled his entire class and had the time, but considering Aizawa was in the middle of adopting Hitoshi and Nezu knew that, it was bullshit. But neither of them were calling each other on their bluff.

So, there he was.

“Shōta_aa**aaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**-_ ” Screamed an all too familiar voice, and Aizawa habitually spun on his heel to silence his husband with his quirk.

“Too loud,” he stressed for the hundredth time, dropping his control.

Hizashi, unabashed, grinned goofily and placed a kiss at the corner of Shōta’s eye. Aizawa smothering his traitorous smile in his scarf.

“Whatcha doing, honey?” Hizashi asked, tugging Shōta backwards into a hug, “waiting for Nezu?”

“Mustang,” he responded with a shrug, leaning into his spouse’s chest, “don’t you have to work right now?”

Hizashi scowled briefly, then hummed. His quirk projecting the vibrations into Aizawa’s back, “I’m on break, decided to come see you.”

“Joy,” Aizawa said with sarcasm.

“You don’t love my company?” Hizashi gasped in faux offense, hugging Shōta tighter and rubbing his face against his like an overly affectionate cat, “my precious husband doesn’t want to spend time with me?”

“Nah, I just married you for the free food.”

Then, also like a cat, Shōta went limp in Hizashi’s arms, sliding all the way to the floor where he remained still. Hizashi quick to grab at arms and legs in an attempt to heave him up.

“Shō! Get up!” His husband whined, “you’re too heavy!”

Shōta snorted, they both knew Hizashi could lift him easily, “nope, I’m dead.”

There was a pause, then Hizashi dropped like a sack of potatoes directly into Shōta’s stomach. Causing him to jackknife up and wheeze at the blow to the gut. Hizashi, now sprawled on the floor where Aizawa had shoved him, cackled madly. Shōta elbowed him in the ribs.

The door across from them swung open. Roy Mustang looking frustrated, but Nezu next to him as gleeful as ever.

The Colonel blinked blankly at the walls around him, “Aizawa?”

“Here,” he muttered, pushing Hizashi off of him and climbing to his feet.

“Ah,” he turned, staring down at the floor to Nezu’s left and reaching out a hand, “thank you for your time, Nezu”

“No problem, Colonel,” the principal response, taking the offered hand.

The paw hit the open skin on the inner side of the splint, and Mustang’s breath hitched. Eyes widened and entire body freezing ramrod still. It suddenly occurred to Shōta that the Colonel had no idea Nezu was an animal. 

He couldn’t quite make out the emotion on his face, but it reminded Shōta of the vigilantes he’d seen before on the street. One part horror the other part righteous fury.

“You’re,” he said softly, “a chimera.”

But of course, Nezu only laughed, “maybe! Or maybe I’m a dog, or maybe I’m a mouse! Or a bear! Who knows? What’s important is that I'm the principal!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can pry couple fluff from my cold, dead hands


	3. Roy and Nezu hold each other at ideological knife point for ten minutes straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One more word out of either of 'em and the someone's getting stabbed

“You’re a chimera,” the Colonel whispered, eyes wide.

Nezu was intrigued, few people had ever guessed something like that, and all of the ones who did had unimpeded sight. Mustang had only a paw (which had been dropped immediately as if burned) and a voice.

His attention focused tightly on the man, Aizawa and Yamada fading away along with anything else irrelevant to this encounter. Mustang’s unseeing eyes widened in shock, then his entire face had broken into something divided into three clear sections. Disgust, anger, and suspicion.

That was another strange point, this kind of reaction was something he’d never seen before. Surprise, interest, or even adoradion had been the usual types, but the Colonel was looking at him with the expression of someone who had just discovered a human trafficking ring.

Interest reared within him, along with the now common urge to pick apart and dissect Mustang until he understood everything about him. To crawl into his brain and pull every last secret from the depths.

(If quirks really didn’t exist on Treha, then what was it that had stolen away his ocular nerve? Pulled from his skull so cleanly it was like it had never formed at all if not for the bleeding ends where it touched his eye? On top of that leaving not even a whisper as to how it even accessed the damn thing.)

But Mustang stood stiff and on edge, that PTSD Nezu had tested for and found when he’d taken the man’s gloves rearing its head. Finding anything with him in this state was a lost cause, so instead of pushing for just what ‘chimera’ meant to him, Nezu grinned.

“Maybe!” He began chipperly, “Or maybe I’m a dog, or maybe I’m a mouse! Or a bear! Who knows?”

And then, because he’d long since left the lab behind, “What’s important is that I'm the principal!”

_ I’m not just an animal, don’t insult me. _

Mustang jerked in place, a sudden understanding crossing his face before the polite mask fell back into place.

“You should warn people,” Mustang said amicably, “I nearly died of a heart attack.”

_ Of course, I was only surprised. _

It was as close to an apology as it got with these things, and so Nezu just smiled and shrugged, “Return with anymore health issues as when you left and Shūzenji would just about skin you alive.”

The Colonel laughed, “I doubt I’d make a very nice rug, unfortunately.”

The situation safely defused, Nezu laughed in return and let Aizawa guide Mustang away. Settling in with a cup of tea and a plot to find out just what Amestrian chimeras were.

  


* * *

The rest of the walk passed in what felt like a blur to Roy. Swimming around his head until he was sat in his apartment with no idea how he’d gotten there. A hospital room of an apartment given to him by Nezu.

Nezu, who was a _ chimera _.

The thought left Roy sick. First Treha, and now Earth possessed people depraved enough to create chimeras. And that didn’t exactly inspire confidence for the human race.

He’d questioned Aizawa on it, and received little more than the fact Nezu had been experimented on in a lab before going on to become an quirked rights activist, then later a hero. He’d said he was a rare case of an animal with a quirk, but Roy was unsure.

A mouse, a dog, or a bear? If people were in the habit of calling him all three, then there was a very good chance he was. The entire combo would be entirely legal in Amestris, which had tight laws on biological alchemy. Laws that only grew more stringent by the day as incidents like Nina Tucker came to light. There was no way it wasn’t legal here.

Chimeras tended to be more to less the sum of their parts. The combined size and weight of their pieces what resulted in their final measurements. A simple equation of Conservation of Mass. And considering Nezu’s small size, that didn’t bode well for the age of the bear. Or the dog, depending on the breed used.

(Shou Tucker’s last, sickening conclusion _ had _ been that younger specimens tended to survive the transmutation better than their elders...)

A knock on the door shocked him from his thoughts, and Roy hastily called them in. One hand resting on his glove.

“Colonel Mustang!” Came the chipper voice of the chimera himself, “may I speak with you?”

_ Speak of the devil, _ Roy thought wryly, _ and he shall appear. _

“It’s a bit late,” Roy commented dryly, but nonetheless allowed him to take a seat. Hand easing away from the ignition cloth.

There was shuffling, the clink of dishes echoing through the kitchen as Nezu made tea. Tension bleed into his limbs slowly before releasing as the principal set a mug of tea before him with a click.

“How have you been settling into Yuuei?”

Roy blinked, reaching out to probe the mug with his fingers. Using both hands to balance the drink between them.

“I’ve been handling it, more or less,” he spoke, feeling the warmth heat his palms pleasantly. 

The mug wasn’t filled fully, probably due to Roy’s unsteady grip and inability to see it. At least this way he wasn’t as likely to spill it, he supposed. Though that was probably the point.

He an experimental sip, the flavor was rich and smokey on his tongue, but not unpleasant. 

“So what’s a chimera?”

Roy choked.

The tea splattered all over his shirt and pants, scalding the skin beneath. Mustang leapt to his feet with a pained hiss, mug set on the table. Holding his unpleasantly sticky clothes away from himself, Mustang internally despaired at the ruined clothing.

Aizawa had_ just _ taken him shopping.

“Excuse me for a moment,” he said with a sigh, reaching out to the side and finding the wall, “I need to change.”

_ And bathe, _ he mused to himself, _ thanks for that by the way. _

(Apparently Nezu really was just some dog or midget bear with a quirk. Though that should be groundbreaking in the way it simultaneously manages to be both soothing and terrifying. Because if quirks really were a new human gene, animals wouldn’t have them. So that means it’s something else, but Roy hadn’t so much as a hypothesis as to what and _ that's _ horrifying.)

(The only similar phenomenon he’s known of would be the homunculi’s specialized powers, but if even _ one _ of these people turn out to be a homunculus he’s transmuting the exits shut and torching the entire building.)

(The first Promised Day blinded him, and one more would just about kill him, so he might as well light the damn match himself.)

A fresh set of clothes and an existential crisis later Roy sat down to explain, “A chimera is an alchemically created fusion of two or more animals.”

Nezu paused, and when he spoke again it was with a hidden fury just contained in his voice, “how does that affect the animals used?”

Roy blinked, noting the bloodthirsty wrath in the principal's words. Tucking the fear behind an easy mask of control, Mustang leaned back into the sofa, “depends. Some come out fully functional, and are capable of long and healthy lives. Others die within the hour.”

Something shattered loudly, the tea mug, if Roy had to guess. Nezu snarling in anger, “and this is normal to you? Are humans ever used in this process?”

That was a step too far.

“Human transmutation is highly illegal,” Roy hissed, thoughts flashing to empty eyed children and suits of armor and white white_ whitewhite WHITE- _ “those caught doing such are typically given the death penalty.” 

(Typically. Because Lab Five existed to spit on every last shred of dignity Amestris had left as a nation. Not that it ever had much, many thanks to the homunculi. Sick Bastards.)

Forcefully returning himself to the previous topic, Roy tilted his head, “so you’re not a chimera then?”

“I am,” Nezu replied, anger now leashed, “But not your universe’s type.”

Mustang nodded, relaxing minutely as his fears eased. Whatever a quirk created chimera meant, at least the alchemical sort was a scourge regulated to just one dimension.

Small mercies.

Then Nezu made a noise, as if something had just occurred to him.

“You said human transmutation was illegal,” he said, leadingly, “not that it couldn’t be done.”

Roy jerked, then his face twisted in his own breed on anger. His other boot hit the ground with a stomp, and he pulled himself to his feet. Towering over Nezu’s small stature.

“It really is late,” Mustang spoke, “I think it’s about time you left.”

Nezu held the silence, either out of surprise or shock, but at least seemed to understand just when a line had been crossed. Soft footsteps made their way to the door, Roy’s blind eyes following the sound.

The chimera stopped at the threshold, “Have a good night, Colonel.”

Roy dipped his head politely, and the door clicked shut.

He needed a fucking drink. If Japan didn’t have whiskey he quit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Oct 3rd yall, burn down your house, make your friends cry, join a corrupt government, commit to those decisions for four years then regret them all. It's your life, only you can ruin it.


	4. Royboy Misses His Wife

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, my finger slipped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a panic attack (one p minor and one major) so if thats bad news bears for you just skip to the first line break after "Would the military even accept a blind officer?"
> 
> Stay safe kids.

Things returned to normal after that. Mostly.

Roy rose to Aizawa's airhorn (asshole), dressed, was told one or more clothes were on backwards and tried again. Stuffed his ignition glove into his pocket, and trailed after the aforementioned prick.

Yuuei came off break that day, and so Roy got to meet more staff members. Joy.

Between a man who controlled blood and a living block of cement, they promised some of the more batshit insane people he'd ever have to shake hands with.

A running theme on this planet, it seemed.

At least Aizawa didn't have a class, Roy was exhausted enough as it was. The man apparently still subbed in from time to time, but mostly pushed paper. 

_ Ha _ , Roy thought smugly, _ least it's not me. _

Though it'd be hard to do even that much, as he is now. He couldn't exactly read without any working eyes.

Which was sobering, Roy had never exactly been serious when he said that he would gouge out his eyes if he had to read through one more report. Still, he made do.

_ Just keep moving forward, _ came the familiar thought, _ don't forget, but don't dwell long. Become Führer, then you can fix things. _

Would the military even accept a blind officer?

It came like a punch to the gut, so hard and swift he was left breathless. Footsteps stalling, his grip on Aizawa arm pausing him too.

No, the military wouldn't. No matter Roy's skills, a blind officer is a detriment on any battlefield, completely useless.

_ Useless. _

It was like the floor flickered beneath him, his goals twisting from his grip. _ Useless. _ Just like that he could taste the sand and feel the heat and hear the _ screams and he could do nothing because he was so useless- _

"Mustang!"

Roy jolted, brought back to awareness like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on his head. Immediately he noticed his breath, already calming but having sped up into a panic. 

"**Sorry,**" he said, then winced at the reflexive Amestrian, "sorry, I just zoned out."

The lie felt clunky and obvious, but Aizawa didn't call him on it. Instead hummed lowly in his throat.

Roy heard the clicking of an Earth cell phone, the offer to collect himself clear. He let out a short laugh at the obviousness, but nonetheless used to time to slow his heartbeat back into a steady rhythm.

Hawkeye would probably shoot him in the back for giving up like that. Even if it had only been for a moment.

_ Hawkeye. _

She'd been a thought he hadn't allowed himself to dwell on. Too afraid of the weakness it might show in such a forgein environment.

But _ fuck _, he missed her. Like a physical wound that ached and bled day by day.

Aizawa resumed walking.

Back in Amestris, Riza would have been his eyes. Would have explained the contents of every room without question. Would have before he even asked. Describing furniture and people and the color of the walls, just for his benefit. 

Without her he was blind in more ways than one. Empty and aching like his very soul had been cut away.

"We're here, the doors shut on their own. Careful," Aizawa cautioned as he led them into yet another room.

Before this, during the Promised Day, she had said that should he die she'd follow him. A more literal take on her vow than anything he would ever have asked for. 

Riza wouldn't have assumed him dead would she?

_ "Mustang?" A new, loud voice, distorted and kilometers away. _

She couldn't have! Not when he's still alive and breathing!

After Lust he told her never to fall for such things again. So she's okay, right?

She has to be, he's only been here just over a week!

But it was 2115, two centuries beyond Amestris, and there's absolutely no confirmation that time moves consistently between dimensions.

It's entirely possible she's been dead for years and he didn't know.

His knees gave out, breath coming in terrified gasps. Aizawa grabbed for him fast enough to avoid a broken nose, but his voice sounded muffled and so, so far.

He had to go, he had to get back. He had to get back _ now. _

_ To hell with the consequences! _

Aizawa warbled, underwater and kilometers removed. His hands gripped Roy tight, and within their grip he could not move.

"**I need to go,** " he babbled in Amestrian, struggling to get away, " **my Lieutenant, I need to find her.**"

But the arms held him in their grip, and from the incomprehensible Roy picked out, "can't understand… Japanese….. Midnight!"

Japanese. He needed to speak Japanese, to make them understand. He could do that, right?

He needed a word that would make them let go, anything so that they would understand the gravity. And for that he couldn't use Lieutenant.

He trembled and shook, and so with a gasp and the last shred of lucidity he had, Roy cried, "I need to go _ home _ , my _ wife- _"

And then there was a sweet, perfumed scent, and Roy collapsed.

* * *

"I really hope you don't plan to make this a habit, Sonny."

Shūzenji's rasping voice said as Roy pushed himself up. His eyes felt sticky with dried moisture he realised with disgust was tears.

"You gave Yamada quite the scare you know," she continued, "Kayama had to knock you out, but you aren't physically hurt any more than usual."

So at least three people saw him have a meltdown over something that might not even be a problem. Fuck him.

That was all fine and dandy, but at this point Roy was ready to leave. Preferably to get so drunk he couldn't remember his name.

Hawkeye, dead. He felt sick.

Sliding his legs out from under the blanket, he sighed, "thank you Shūzenji, but I'll be going-"

His ankles were whacked with a cane, and he quickly shoved them right back under the covers.

"I wasn't finished!" Shūzenji snapped, "after lunch today you're going to be meeting up with one of our staff members. His name is Inui Ryō, and you'll be seeing him weekly from now on."

"What?" Roy whined, "are you kidding me?"

"Doctor's orders," she said simply, "besides, whatever may or may not be happening to your wife, there's nothing you can do right now."

Shit.

Shiiit.

"She's not actu-"

The door swung open, "Mustang!" A new, feminine voice sang, hitting the bed next to him, "you alright?"

"Do I know you?" He questioned, and the voice laughed.

"No, I'm Kayama Nemuri, or Midnight," she responded, "I'm the one who knocked you out."

Roy furrowed his eyebrows, then decided with all the eloquence of a man who'd just been bullied into therapy, _ fuck it, _ "I'm Colonel Roy Mustang, or the Flame Alchemist, and that was the best goddamn sleep I've had in five years."

(Letting the Elrics onto his team was simultaneously the best and worst decision he's made in his life.)

Kayama paused, then the room was filled with cackling.

Roy smiled back wanly, he'd either just made an ally or a huge mistake. Fuck if he knew which.

"Well Mustang, I'm here to take you to the lounge. Shōta and Hizashi are waiting on us."

Ah, she's a friend of theirs. Definitely a mistake then.

* * *

"So what's with Nezu?" Aizawa asked, dropping unceremoniously into a seat in the teacher's lounge. He wasn't mentioning the Incident, to which Roy was grateful.

Mustang sighed, face buried in the table where it'd been since Shūzenji's demand and was going to remain until the end of time. 

He'd forgotten the entire thing with Nezu, if he was being honest, "What's he doing?"

"He's been staring at you for like, seven minutes," Yamada answered from the other side of Aizawa, sounding unnerved, "I counted."

"Amestris has a long history of questionably moral experimentation."

"That'd do it," Aizawa responded flatley, slurping from one of his jelly packets.

"He isn't going to like, murder you or anything," Yamada questioned, apparently fearful enough of Nezu to momentarily set his grudge aside, "right?"

Kayama, evidently the latest addition to the freakshow, sighed theatrically, "if he is I want out of the splash zone, this shirt is new."

Finding a pen on the table, Roy hurled it at her. The plastic encasing left his fingers to clatter off the hard surface of something on her face. His head jerked up in brief confusion, before remembering that glasses existed and flopping back down with a thunk.

“You’re mopy,” Aizawa commented, the scratching of the recovered pen on paper now running soft background noise, “that upset about Nezu killing you?”

"No," Roy huffed miserably, remembering Shūzenji's second, arguably worse revelation, "It's just that there's no alcohol in this prison! Why do I have to meet wolfman over there_ sober? _"

He jabbed a finger in the direction of Inui, or Hound Dog, if you preferred to use their codename bullshit.

(Not that he could talk, really. Bradley probably chose the alchemist code names from a first grade dictionary.)

There was a second of silence, then Kayama cackled. Slapping the table hard enough for Roy to jolt and bristle like an aggravated cat.

"God you're cute," she snickered, ruffling his hair briefly before he ducked away from her hand. Shoving her kevlar armored limb away from him.

"I'm neither single nor interested," he muttered darkly, having decided to just run with the new cover rather then explain the shitshow that is his love life. 

(So we're technically not married because we're not legally allowed to, but we've been together anyway for over a decade. Also I go on fake dates with my pseudo sisters, because my cover is a womanizer. Yes, Riza knows. Yes, she doesn't mind-)

What a headache.

"It is a school," Aizawa said after Kayama collected herself, "what were you expecting?"

Roy stuck his tongue out in his presumed direction, "I don't exactly have a wealth of opportunities to go out. I'm stuck in here until I'm a legal citizen," he complained.

"We go out weekly, just join us if it's that bothersome."

Hizashi sighed in resignation, leaning back in his chair, "drinking alone is unhealthy, Listener. And they seem to like you, might as well."

Roy looked up, mouth open in surprise. Huh.

He hadn't expected it, but somehow he's managed to befriend two of these quirked crazies. Honestly, the fact that only makes him feel somewhat warm inside makes him worry over his own sanity.

Well, if he's crazy at least he's in good company for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roy's not allowed to have fun


	5. Abandonment

Yo. I'm abandoning this. I fell out of the my hero fandom and I'm just not really interested in continuing it in general. If ya want to take it feel free, I don't really care. Hell, if ya leave a comment I'll fork over the story notes free of charge. Or you can just take it and make your own. Whatever floats your boat.


	6. Story Notes for People Who Are Interested

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'll warn ya, I had no idea where it was going or what the ending was gonna be. Have fun making that yourself and/or just changing it a little and ending it early. Seriously, it's not my story anymore. Do whatever you want with it.
> 
> Also I'm real mean to Ed and Al in these. More so then Roy. It's all p canon typical, but both canons can get real nasty, so keep an eye out y'all. There's injury, kidnapping, and hostage situations. Stay safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler warning? Y'all should know what you're getting into right about now, but I might as well.

Edward  
Injuries: Impaled left arm, minor concussion, atrophied right arm, bitten tongue (bleeding), PTSD, C-PTSD, depression, a bit of chronic exhaustion from tearing a chunk out of his soul, a few miscellaneous cuts and bruises (Cuts: right cheek, left cheek, left forearm, right bicep, left side of ribs, knuckles, scraped arms and face. Bruises: right shin, knuckles, knees and elbows, shoulder blades), road rash  
Latches onto Al in transportation  
Has alchemy  
Falls through LoV window (gains more scratches, broken wrist)  
Captured by LoV w/ Al  
Makes escape attempt (fails)  
AfO takes interest b/c of his abilities (revealed in escape attempt)  
Al used as leverage for cooperation  
Made to speak exclusively Japanese to prevent plotting w/ Al (otherwise is a polyglot due to learning multiple languages in order to decode shit)  
Visits when allowed (cuts al’s hair, allowing a softer scene)  
Partially responsible for nomus (al is literally held at knife point to achieve this)  
In USJ attack, decides helps children despite threats to Al  
Al is hurt, Ed doesn’t "betray" LoV again, and is present in attack on training camp, where he injures several kids (extreme confliction and guilt over this)  
Sneaks Bakugou food and water during his kidnapping, Bakugou is suspicious and refuses to take any  
During Bakugou’s rescue he and Al nearly escape, but they are cut off  
Ed sacrifices his freedom to secure Al’s (Al ends up with Ed’s coat)  
Without Al to control him, he becomes a much more volatile pawn, and experiments are started to take his alchemy like AfO would a quirk

Alphonse  
Injuries: Starvation, malnutrition, dehydration, atrophy, sensory issues, eyes can't differentiate vibrancy in color well due to a seeing shit ton of WHITE for 5 years, has trouble speaking and forming words, poor immune system, memory and migrane issues due to body's memory and soul's memory trying to cram ten full years of memories together willy nilly, extreme exhaustion and oversleeping, PTSD, C-PTSD, depression, dissociation and fainting problems as his soul clicks in and out his body basically trying to "get comfy" after five years of long distance (also! watch out when you write his recovery, refeeding syndrome is a thing)  
Has flesh body  
Falls through window too but is shielded from damage by Ed  
Captured by LoV w/ Ed  
Unable to do much due to state of body  
Kept in cell  
Treatment largely dependent on Ed’s cooperation  
Gets gifts from Ed on occasion  
Made to speak exclusively Japanese to prevent further plotting w/ Ed (otherwise is a polyglot due to learning multiple languages in order to decode shit)  
Is badly hurt by LoV when Ed works against, cementing ed’s “loyalty”  
(No I dont know what the league did to him I told you I was making it up as I went)  
Is extremely guilty and conflicted as Ed begins to act as a more loyal member to protect him  
Gets an escape to heros at cost of Ed’s freedom, ends up with Ed’s coat  
Goes apeshit and is lead member of the “let’s find and kill the league” club

Roy  
Injuries: Stab wounds in both hands, cut median nerve in both hands, missing optic nerve, a few minor bruises, PTSD, C-PTSD, depression  
Taken in by Nezu after being found blind and injured in UA  
Watched and handled by Aizawa (Aizawa and Yamada are married. Shinsou is their adopted son)  
Recovery run alongside getting to know the staff  
Becomes close friends with Aizawa  
Discovers Hohenheim, the two begin to work to find the others  
Finds out about Ed’s capture during the USJ  
Freaks out and begins to constantly work towards saving him  
Finds and tells Izumi, who starts to work as a messenger  
Dads Al real hard once he’s free and is second most active member of the “let’s find and kill the league” club  
Especially pissed once he learns about brother’s treatment by LoV  
100% plans to burn them all alive once he finds them  
Is a transman btw

Izumi  
Injuries: Large amount of flesh torn off her left deltoid, concussion, various scratches and bruises and fractured knuckles and elbows from all that punching and elbowing she did, PTSD, road rash  
Wakes up in alley way, found by Sardine, an old and battle scarred alley cat who leads her to Okamoto Meisa and Okamoto Eriko  
Eriko heals her, and she begins to work towards finding the others  
Healing her did give her a large, gnarled scar on her left deltoid  
Finds out about ed and al during the period between USJ and Training Camp  
Is pissed  
Becomes vigilante/informant due to her position in a villian swamped neighborhood  
Messenger between the brothers (especially ed) and the heros later

Hohenheim  
Injuries: Extreme exhaustion, is slowly dying due to lack of stone, extremely bothered by lack of souls were there were thousands for 450ish years, PTSD  
Wakes up with the Midoriyas  
Finds out Izuku brought him there after he half-lucidly begged him not to take him to a hospital  
Sort of eventually becomes part of the household (extreme issues with this due to baggageTM)  
Meets Roy due to Nezu meddling  
I’ll be honest I have no idea what his role in the story is, research on how to get back maybe?? idk

SIDE OCS

Sardine has a knobbly spine, patchy fur, a limp in his right foreleg, a torn left ear, and a squinted left eye. Has several other, older scars and some fleas. He is an old grey tabby with blue eyes. I'll be honest I put him in because I love cats. Sue me.

Okamoto Meisa is an old, quirkless woman. Grey hair, grey-blue eyes, square face, a stooped back and a no-nonsense attitude. Bit of a grudge against quirks due to quirk discrimination giving her a poor quality of life.

Eriko is Meisa’s adopted grandchild, who is middle aged and was kicked out of her home as a teenager. She is a buff, pink lesbian with biolumecent blue eyes and darker pink stripes. Whiteish pink hair, and has quills like a porcupine (five total, with bioluminescent rings decorating them). Quills contain healing liquid, but upon being torn out for use take anywhere from 4-6 months to grow back depending on her health at the time. They will leave scars on the healed tissue, and hurt the patient. Personality of an exhausted college student on redbull and no sleep. Is pressured to be a doctor but is Not Interested. She healed Sardine once and now feeds him regularly.

(ALSO! Ed's missing his left kidney from the impalement in Baschool, so that's a thing. Shouldn't really affect anything unless he goes trading another.)

**Author's Note:**

> Nezu's just here to bully Roy with us


End file.
